


for fear of never lying in this bed again

by merines



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, cause it's told in harry's pov so you only see bits and pieces of it, sorry!!!!, you probably shouldn't read this just for the lilo tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 03:20:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merines/pseuds/merines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry isn't entirely sure if he's in love with Louis or his dog. Things would be so much easier if it was the dog.</p><p>AU where Harry might be in love but Louis might not be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	for fear of never lying in this bed again

**Author's Note:**

> merry christmas!! when i first started writing this it was just supposed to be something short and sweet involving puppies. except then i kept writing and the longer it got the more it went from "wwwww adorable" to "oh god why no stop" so uh. sorry my bad. as always, i don't have a beta so please forgive any and all mistakes.
> 
> the title comes from the recluse by cursive. ALSO because people are asking, there will be a sequel to this but i can't say when it'll be up cause i have other things i need to work on. so, eventually. at some point in the future.

Harry isn’t really the type to be taken by surprise. Some things do manage to surprise him, obviously, but he usually recovers rather quickly and shrugs it off. No, sir, I had no idea that was your daughter I was sleeping with, but she’s a really nice young lady with a promising future, or you’re all drug dealers? No wonder there’s a secret door behind your bookshelf, are all things that have come out of his mouth at some point or other. So, really, if something knocks into him from out of the blue, Harry is great at quickly adapting to the situation. It’s a gift.

That’s why he doesn’t falter when a corgi follows him on his morning jog. The most adorable corgi in the world, actually, with her itty bitty legs trying to strut around like she’s hot stuff. Harry instantly stops running to bury his face into the pale fur. A few other runners pass them by, throwing disgruntled looks at him for blocking the pathway, but Harry is too wrapped up in fluffy heaven to even notice them. He decides right then and there to build a corgi kingdom. He will rule over them all and they can share a bed and he will probably die suffocating under them, but it’ll be worth it. So, so worth it.

After a few minutes of belly rubbing and cooing, Harry realizes that no one has stepped up to shoo him away from their dog. In fact, there doesn’t seem to be anyone around them at all except for the ones getting their morning exercise. And yeah, the dog could still belong to one of them, but no one is stopping or even appears to be searching for a pet that got off its leash. Harry frowns and bends over to read the tags on the collar. Diana, it says, and Harry almost laughs out loud at the name because he would have gone with something completely different. Like Princess or Snookums or Baby Spice. It’s a wonder why he doesn’t get paid to come up with pet names.

He waits about ten minutes there, moving to sit in the grass with Diana so they won’t get run over by passing bicyclists. No one shows up for her. He’s frowning deeply now because, like, who wouldn’t come running in search for such a cutie pie? He would, for sure. But then again, it is a pretty big park. Maybe the owner is searching on the other side of it.

“Shall we go for a walk?” he asks her, rubbing their noses together. He probably shouldn’t be doing this with an animal he barely knows; there’s a chance she never got her shots or is actually very rabid, and is only pretending to be calm and sweet. She licks his nose. Harry instantly begs forgiveness for ever doubting her angelic nature.

Luckily Diana follows him when he starts to walk. She’s probably a little too trusting, maybe, but it’ll make searching for the owner much easier. They move from area to area, Harry calling out to any potential dog owners. A couple of people stop to admire Diana, but none of them claim her. A girl with hair so blonde it’s practically white offers to take her home if he can’t find the owner.

“But then who am I going to cuddle with?” Harry asks, aghast.

“You’re not going to be cuddling either way once she goes back home,” the girl points out.

“Oh. Right. No, sorry, I’ll keep looking.”

It takes an hour. Then two. Then three. By the fourth one, they have traveled around the entire park twice and the only thing they got to show for it is a bruised knee and doggy biscuits. Harry rubs his injury, pouting, while Diana munches on her treat. Some people have all the luck.

“Let’s go back to my place,” he tells her. “We can search more later.”

Diana doesn’t resist when he scoops her up into his arms, so he takes that as consent to head out. He only lives a block away from the park, but the walk back lasts about twenty minutes.  He spends half of the time showing Diana off as if she’s actually his dog and not someone he randomly picked up on the sidewalk. Which is probably a terrible way to phrase that? He shouldn’t say that out loud to anyone or they might get the wrong idea.

“I picked up a cutie named Diana on the sidewalk today,” Harry immediately tells Zayn when he reaches the flat. Zayn looks startled for half a second, like he’s trying to figure out if Harry’s being serious or not. But then the star trots into the living room after Harry, her ears perked up in interest. Zayn also perks up in interest. Most people think he’s some aloof guy who only makes love with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, but he is actually the biggest softie to end up on this side of the pond. Harry would know; he is the second biggest one.

Zayn crouches down in front of the dog and very hesitantly leans over to pet her. Harry’s hand is reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone before he even processes what he’s doing. His flatmate playing with a puppy will be the greatest Vine in the universe and he will become a legend. He takes pictures too. And more videos. Harry is going to die of cute.

“Who did you steal her from?” Zayn finally looks away from Diana to ask. He frowns at the phone. “Are you taking pictures?”

“And video,” Harry shrugs. “And I didn’t steal her. We just sort of ran into each other.” A pause. “I searched for the owner!”

“Not well enough, though, ‘cause you still have her.”

Harry scowls. “If you’re going to accuse me of petnapping the least you can do is stop petting her.”

“No way, she’s bloody adorable.”

The next half hour consists of giving their guest the grand tour of the flat. It’s not a very long one, considering they only have two cramped bedrooms and a small living room that also serves as their kitchen. The bathroom isn’t much to brag about either. Technically, they could move out at any time because they can afford to, but they both silently agreed that it’s too much effort to pack everything and then unpack it all somewhere else. So they stay.

They make a little bed for her, made up of pillows and comforters. She leaps into it, her stubby legs actually lifting off the ground as she crashes into the sheets. Harry records it as well. This one is definitely going on the internet, nothing can stop him. Once they’re done making sure Diana is more comfortable than the royal family, Zayn lights up a cigarette. Okay, so maybe some of the general public’s mental image of Zayn isn’t entirely off the mark.

Zayn takes a drag then slowly exhales. “What are we going to do with her? We can’t keep her, yeah?”

Harry pouts. He knows they can’t, even if he is secretly planning their future together. But he’s pretty sure Zayn is as well, because he can’t imagine anyone can meet Diana and not want to rub their face against her belly for all eternity. “I can go back to the park later and look around some more?”

Zayn nods. “We should make signs too.”

“Don’t the people who lose the dog normally put up the signs? I don’t want, like—what if some creepy person comes by to claim her and she doesn’t really belong to them? She seems like she’d go with just about anyone.”

“We can, like, I don’t know, not put her name on the sign? Then ask them for it when they show up. You know we can’t keep her.”

Harry knows. Their apartment complex has a strict no pet policy. Just having her here now, when they have no intention of the stay being anything but temporary, might land them in trouble. He’s starting to wonder if they should move out after all. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, but let’s search the park some more first. Maybe I just kept missing them.”

They decide to eat first, but a quick look at the fridge makes them realize they don’t have anything that would be canine friendly. So Zayn tucks Diana under his arm and the three of them make their way to the closest grocery store. Harry shops inside while the other two hang out on the curb, and it’s obvious who got the better deal from this and he is not jealous when he stuffs his basket full of dog food. Not jealous at all.

When he finally exits the store, there’s a blond sitting with them. For a split second Harry thinks that the girl from earlier has been following him, except that is definitely a guy there. He’s very loud, and Irish, and he’s trying really hard to coax Diana into doing tricks for him.

“Sit,” he orders. Diana wags her tail. “Well, I guess both involve your butt. Close enough.”

Harry shoots Zayn a questioning look. He just gets a shrug in response, as if their suddenly gaining another person is the most natural thing in the universe. Considering who is currently in their entourage, though, it probably is. He sits down next to them.

“Does she belong to you?” Harry asks.

“Nah,” the blond replies, never once taking his eyes off the dog. “I used to work at a pet salon. One of the regular customers had one of these. Hey, wouldn’t it be funny if she belonged to him?”

Zayn snorts. “That’d be a little too convenient, mate.”

He frowns and it looks so misplaced on his features that Harry almost reaches over to tug his lips upwards. Except they have only known each other for a total of ten seconds and that was probably crossing a few lines. They should introduce each other before any touching occurs. “I’m Harry. This is Zayn, and—“

“Diana.” The frown is quickly replaced with a wide grin, and Harry had been right, because this feels much more natural. “’m Niall.”

And Harry isn’t sure how it happened, but Niall goes with them back to their flat and they order pizza. He tells them all about his old job at the groomers, how it was really great but his true passion has always been music, so he quit so he can focus entirely on it. His band has been doing pretty well lately, and they are going on a tour soon with a band Harry has never heard of. He sniffs in disapproval at that; he’s usually the one who’s a fan of bands no one has ever heard of. It doesn’t feel right to be on the other end of that. They spend a good amount of time discussing music, as it’s something they’re all passionate about.

It’s pretty unconventional, really, allowing a complete stranger into their home. But Harry is at least sixty percent certain that Niall isn’t some sort of bleached serial killer, so it should be fine. And Diana seems to like him; she keeps snuggling against his feet in a way that makes Harry almost territorial. Like, how could she? He’s the one who rescued her from a lonely existence in a park. You’d think she’d be more appreciative of that fact. Perhaps he should kick Niall out after all.

It’s only when he glances at a clock and sees that it’s 3:00 PM that Harry remembers about the whole park business. They gather up their things and head on out, Diana practically prancing at their feet. He wonders once again if they couldn’t just flee to a different country with her in tow, living the rest of their lives as fugitives. Was not returning a dog a felony? If it isn’t it should be, he angrily thinks, except then he remembers that would get him arrested. So, yeah, they go to the park.

There are a lot more people here now than earlier. Families flock the place, and this is good. More people mean more chances at finding the rightful owner. Everything is coming up, Harry. Everything except the owner though, because after walking around the park until their feet ache and the sky darkens, they still can’t find Diana’s parents.

“Do you think,” Harry whispers so Diana can’t overhear, “she might have been… you know?”

“Abandoned?” Zayn says in what is not a whisper. Harry quickly covers the corgi’s ears.

“Might be,” Niall looks heartbroken. “It happens more than you think. Sometimes people would leave their pets at our door. Scumbags, the lot of ‘em.”

They all sadly look down at Diana. She’s sitting in the grass with her tongue hanging out, and just the thought that someone could just throw her out into the street without any remorse makes Harry want to strangle things. Not things that don’t deserve to be attacked, but bad things. Like Diana’s owner. If they’re bad, anyway because they’re just assuming the worst case scenario at the moment. For all they know, whoever it is might be sobbing into their pillow over their lost companion.

“It’s getting dark soon,” Zayn breaks the silence. “We should head back now. We can make the posters tomorrow and hang them up.”

Accepting defeat, they all trudge to exit the park. They exchange phone numbers with Niall; he has band rehearsal in the morning so he can’t meet them. Harry wonders for a second how did they get to the point where they’re actually disappointed that someone they met a few hours ago can’t see them immediately again. And yet, here they are.

Harry goes to bed that night with Diana nestled at his side, and he thinks, things can’t get better than this.

* * *

He wakes up the next morning with a piece of paper on his face. While he did expect to be choking on something, he figured it would be small and furry. Not, you know, a dead tree. He sits up and the paper falls down into his lap. A familiar face is plastered on the front along with the words MISSING underneath, and Harry honestly can’t tell if he’s disappointed or relieved. When Diana happily pads into his room with Zayn behind, he figures it’s leaning towards the former.

“Niall dropped this off earlier today,” he explains. “Apparently these are posted everywhere close to where he lives.”

“Oh.” Harry steps out of the bed to scratch behind Diana’s ears. He’s still in his pants, but Zayn has seen him naked more times than all of Harry’s exes, so he doesn’t particularly care. Granted, he wouldn’t have cared even if it had been the first time they ever met. Harry is pretty nonchalant about nakedness. “Did you call the number?”

“Yeah,” Zayn says, picking up Diana and cradling her in his arms. Harry almost wants to weep at the sight. “Some bloke named Liam answered. He said he’s going to come by to get her. I’m going to be at work though, so can you be here at around one?”

And that’s how Harry spent his day lounging in the living room for the Liam fellow to take away the love of his life. Even Zayn had been a bit emotional; he spent a good ten minutes playing with Diana before he left and he was probably late to work because of it. Diana seems to understand that something sad is approaching—she follows Harry as if she’s his shadow for the entire morning, never letting him out of her sight. He’s honestly considering grabbing her and leaping out the window to start a new life together when there’s a knock at the door. Carrying his bundle of joy, Harry opens it.

Liam is slightly shorter than him with a face full of scruff and twinkling blue eyes. His hair is hidden underneath a beanie, but the fringe that peaks out of it look soft enough to sleep on. He’s wearing a simple pair of sweats and a jumper, but like, wow. Harry can see that good looks definitely run in Diana’s family. He has to remind himself that this person did not actually give birth to a dog.

“Sweetheart,” Liam coos, holding his arms out to the dog. Harry instinctively takes a step back, and the silence that follows the movement is so awkward that he regrets not escaping through the window.

“What are you doing?” he says, narrowing his eyes at Harry. “Are you not going to give me my dog?”

Harry wants to say that he isn’t and slam the door in the guy’s face. But he has a very pretty face, and he’d feel terrible about petnapping, so instead he just shakes his head. Diana is squirming in his arms, desperately trying to get to her actual owner. Betrayal tugs at him. Didn’t they have something special? He can’t trust anyone.

“Sorry,” he says, reluctantly handing the corgi over. “Here you go, Liam.”

Liam actually freezes at this, a look of confusion etched onto his painfully attractive features. But it soon fades into amusement, and now there’s a wide smile on his face as if Harry had said some sort of joke. “Right. Liam, that’s me. Thanks mate, for not selling my dog on EBay or something.”

That is suspicious. Harry almost yanks the dog back, but the way she is reacting to the guy means that she clearly knows him. But why have that kind of response after someone says your name? What a weirdo. “I would never. I am going to post about a billion videos of her to the internet though. So, cheers?”

Liam gasps. “You used my darling for your own personal gain? How very dare you—you—what the fuck is your name?”

“Uh. Harry. My name’s Harry.”

“Right, Harry. Oh, shit. The reward, right? You’ll want that.”

Liam uses one hand to dig through his pockets. Harry blanks out at that. There’s a reward? Zayn never mentioned one, and he admittedly didn’t read the entire missing poster because it made him too sad. He’s not particularly interested, to be honest, but he doesn’t want to offend the guy. What a pretty guy. So pretty.He has to set Diana onto the floor to get the money out. She sprints to her makeshift bed, and Harry almost takes that as a sign that she decided to abandon her owner in favor of him. But then Liam has the bills pointedly in his face. Harry nervously takes them.

“I actually thought the reward should have just been the precious time you got to spend with Diana,” Liam says, “but then, er. Her dad said we should give something substantial. Her other dad, I mean, I’m dad number one, obviously. Anyway.”

There’s a lot of ways to interpret that sentence. Two dads could mean that Liam has a roommate. Or a boyfriend. Or—well, it doesn’t matter. He and Diana are about to walk out of Harry’s life forever and that is enough to make him want to cry. He won’t though because he is a proper adult who doesn’t do things like cry in his living room while a stranger stares helplessly on.

“Oh my God,” Liam hisses. “Are you crying?”

“No,” Harry rubs at his eyes. “Yeah, actually. Sorry. I’ll stop.”

He actually looks like he’s going to reach over and touch Harry, either to comfort or punch him, but then Diana waltz back towards them. Liam bends down to pick her up, and when he’s back to his full height his features are actually apologetic. “I feel bad for rushing, but I have to get going.”

Harry nods. He leans forward, and for the second time Liam completely freezes. When Harry places a kiss to the top of Diana’s forehead is when the guy finally relaxes, letting out a shaky breath. Harry would normally make some sort of teasing joke about that, but right now he’s too upset about the dog. When he looks back at Liam, his blue eyes quickly glance away from Harry’s green. He seems embarrassed.

“Right,” he says. “Bye.”

Watching the two leave, Harry decides that they should move to a building that allows pets.

* * *

Niall hanging out with them becomes a regular thing. Harry still isn’t sure how it happened, but he soon can’t even imagine what they did before they met him. What a horrible time in their lives that must have been. He shudders to think of it. It’s been about a month since Diana exited their life, and the three of them are crammed into a booth in some dingy pub that Niall is almost positive has passed health inspections. Zayn keeps suspiciously eyeing the glass his beer is in, but he drinks it nonetheless. Harry stopped caring about the health hazard around four drinks in. He and Niall are crudely singing their own rendition of Come & Get It, swaying their hips to what they think is the beat. It’s a glorious mess, and Zayn keeps threatening to leave, but he never does.

It’s around the time Niall is waltzing with a redheaded bloke to a Bieber song and Zayn is chatting someone in the next booth over up that the door opens. And, okay, that’s not that extraordinary. It’s a crowded pub; the door has been opening and closing all night long. But this time it’s important, because this time it’s Liam who is walking through the doors. Beside him is a taller guy with broad shoulders and biceps that must have been sculpted by Satan. They’re walking over to the bar, and they probably would have made it but Harry drunkenly yells out to them. “Liam!”

For some reason it’s the taller guy who stops and not Liam. He actually just keeps on going, only halting once he notices that he’s no longer being followed. He checks to see where his friend is looking at then scans the crowd himself. When his eyes lock on Harry’s, there isn’t any recognition at first. But then he barks out a laugh that Harry can hear across the room.

He waits as they both make their way towards him. Niall and Zayn are still otherwise occupied, but Harry can tell that Zayn is watching them. They stop right in front of his booth, and Harry takes a moment to send a silent prayer to the inventor of skinny jeans. Bless you for highlighting every one of Liam’s curves, unknown person; you surely have a seat to the heavenly Father’s right.

It’s the other guy who says something. “Uh, excuse me? You said my name?”

“I was calling to Liam,” Harry frowns.

“Yeah. That’s me.”

It’s at this point when the artist formerly known as Liam erupts into a fit of giggles. He yanks on actual Liam’s arm, pulling him down, and he whispers something into his ear. A twinge of something startles Harry. He’s not sure why he felt jealous at that, but. There you go.

Real Liam looks exasperated. “I’m sorry, he played a joke on you. I’m Liam, and this twat is Louis. You’re the one who found Diana then?”

At the mention of their lost angel, Niall and Zayn appear out of thin air. They have moved on after Diana left them. Really, they have. Yet even though they got on with their lives, they can’t help but still be completely enamored with the cutest creature to ever exist. They both crowd into the booth then look expectantly at Louis and Liam. Liam appears confused, like he isn’t really sure what’s happening, but Louis slides into a seat and stops when he’s directly in front of Harry. Liam slowly settles next to him.

“You better be taking good care of her,” Niall grabs Harry’s beer only to slam it onto the table. He then frowns at the small noise that it makes, and he repeats the action until he’s satisfied with the echo. “If you’ve been mistreating her, we’re taking her back.”

“You do realize,” Liam says, eyeing the puddle of beer that is now forming alongside the glass, “that she’s our dog, right? You can’t just take her from us.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Louis snorts. “We’ve actually sold her to a circus. It’s always been my goal to headline a juggling corgi, and we’ve finally hit it big. Would you like to buy some tickets?”

“Lou, you do realize that a lot of circuses abuse their animals, right? It’s not a good joke to make.”

“Shut it, Liam, I’m being funny.”

And the jealousy is back again. Which is ridiculous because there is nothing to be jealous of? Harry didn’t even know Louis’ real name until just now, although that was entirely his fault for just assuming that Louis was the one Zayn spoke to on the phone. Then again, Louis should have corrected the mistake, so it was actually his fault. The point is that Harry should not be watching Liam and Louis banter back and forth with each other while wanting to jump in like some desperate idiot.

“How did you lose her anyway?” Zayn asks.

Louis visibly deflates. “My sister was walking her. Only she didn’t use the leash and Diana ran off.” He glances at Harry before adding, “That’s kind of why I left so quickly. Lottie was nearly having a panic attack over it.”

So Louis is a loving brother as well as the owner of adorable animals with stubby legs. Be still, beating heart. “It’s cool. It’s not like we had a date.”

Louis laughs, but there’s a sort of hollow edge to it, like he’s nervous. His arm nudges Liam’s, and honestly, it’s such a small gesture that it would go unnoticed by most people. Not Harry. He averts his gaze when he opens his mouth again, “How’d you come up with the name Diana?”

“Of Themyscira,” Louis and Liam say simultaneously.

“Excuse me?”

But Zayn leans in closer, his dark eyes practically sparkling. “You don’t say.”

The three of them erupt into a discussion about comic books. Harry follows along at first, but then it gets to a point where they’re cursing out someone named Lobdell and arguing over the necessity of having Superman and Wonder Woman date, and at that point Harry and Niall just settle on throwing chips at each other.

“He was like,” Louis says exasperatedly, throwing his hands in the air so suddenly one knocks against Liam’s ear, “ten years old. Who the fuck kills off a little kid like that? Such bullshit.”

“It wasn’t even a good death,” Zayn nods. “Nothing heroic, just sad. Damian wouldn’t have gone out like that.”

They all murmur agreements. Harry decides to never read comic books because it sounds ridiculously stressful. There’s a lull in the conversation after that though, and Harry knows that this would usually be the time when Liam and Louis excuse themselves and leave. They probably had some sort of plans before Harry distracted them, after all. Even now he can see Louis glancing at his phone and whispering something into Liam’s ear. The taller guy nods.

“We were going to head to a club that just opened last week,” Liam says. “Heard it was aces.”

“Cool,” Zayn says, taking a very hesitant sip from his beer. He still doesn’t trust it.

“Wanna come with?” Louis asks. “The more the merrier and all that?”

Niall instantly accepts the invitation, and Zayn is probably just happy to go somewhere that might not accidentally give him herpes. Harry wishes he can wipe the smile off his face, or at least turn it slightly less bright. He can’t help it though. He obviously has some sort of crush on Louis, that’s true, but he also likes Liam a lot. Even more, if they manage to become friends with these two then they can probably see Diana again. One look at Niall and Zayn confirms that they’re thinking the same thing. Okay, so there might be some ulterior motives for this budding friendship, but it’s for a good cause.

It’s not within walking distance so they get a cab, cramming themselves into it. Louis is half sitting in Liam’s lap, and Harry almost lets out a groan of frustration. He must have made some noise, though, because Louis raises his eyebrows at him. Not wanting to seem like some sort of desperate maniac, Harry leans slightly away from them so he’s mostly pressing against Niall. Niall complains loudly at the breach in his leg room. Niall has to deal with it.

The club is magnificently crowded, with bodies pressing against each other and music so loud the ground trembles. While Harry prefers cozier atmospheres, this is the type of energy he could get high off of. It radiates life—each beat that flows through the crowd is like a pulse, thumping through the smoke and alcohol and people. It’s even better when you’re drunk, and while Harry has a nice buzz going from the pub, he still isn’t there yet. He nods at his friends and heads for the bar.

While he’s waiting for the bartender to fix up his cocktail, he catches Liam and Louis in the corner of his eye. They’re with Niall, laughing at something that the blonde is saying to him, but all Harry can notice is the way that Louis is pinching at Liam’s sleeve. It looks very possessive. Harry orders another cocktail before he even takes a sip of the first one.

He downs the two drinks as well as a third, and then makes his way to the dance floor. He can see Zayn off to the side, talking to some girl with big hair. Harry decides to let him be; Zayn had a bad breakup earlier in the year, so the last thing Harry wants to do is cockblock his best friend when he’s finally getting back into the game. He scans the crowd for Niall, but he’s lost somewhere in the mass of people. He’s about to head back to the bar for another drink when a hand touches his shoulder.

The guy is taller than him, and definitely older. His hair is styled into a quiff that makes Harry want to reach over and touch it. He grins at Harry, and it’s so smug but Harry honestly loves it. “Yo.”

Harry grins back. “I like your hair.”

The guy shrugs, as if he’s used to being told this. “Says the fucker with actual curls. I didn’t think anyone other than eight year old girls had those.”

“Heeeeey.”

He grabs Harry by the hand and leads him to the dance floor. Harry giggles the entire way there, tripping over his feet and leaning all his weight against him. They do introductions along the way. Nick, he says. Nickity Nickers Nick. When Harry says that out loud, Nick almost drops him. The dancing is filthy. It’s practically fucking, really, with his Nick thrusts right up against Harry’s bum. Like, who does that? It should be illegal. It’s around the time Harry’s fingers are beginning to inch their way down Nick’s waistband that he gets pulled towards the loo.

The stalls are painfully small, as if whoever designed them wanted to make it as inconvenient as humanly possible to have a quick shag. But they manage to blow each other without falling into the toilet, and Nick even kisses Harry when his lips are smeared with cum. And all Harry can think is, fuck yeah, let’s go get laid tonight. He opens the stall door so they can sneak out and into each other’s pants, but instead of finding an empty bathroom there’s Louis.

“Oh,” Louis says. His face flashes from startled to amused, and possibly something else, but Harry is too drunk to decipher the deeper meanings of facial expressions. He’s too drunk for this moment.

Nick eyes the two, probably sensing that they know each other but unsure as to the extent of the relationship. He finally settles for patting Harry on the shoulder. “I’ll be outside if you need me, Hazza.”

When Nick exits the room, Louis smirks. “We’ve barely been here for an hour and you’re already pulling? I underestimated you.”

Harry isn’t sure if he’s relieved that Louis isn’t making a big deal out of it or disappointed. Zayn would probably just warn him not to have sex on the couch again and Niall might be extremely obnoxious and loud over it. Louis, though, just looks like he caught Harry looking at bad porn. He thinks he might be disappointed. He’s feeling that a lot lately.

“My seducing skills are excellent,” Harry replies.

“Is it? You seem a little uncoordinated for it.”

“Well,” he takes a step closer, running a hand through his hair. “How do you know that’s not an act? A lot of people fall for the helpless damsel thing.”

Louis looks like he’s considering it. “Nah, you just have two left feet.”

“Two rather big left feet.”

“Oh my God, shut up. You’re trying to seduce me right now, aren’t you? Such a slag.”

Harry grins, but it drops sooner than usual. He doesn’t want Louis to think he’s just an easy lay. Okay, so he is, actually. If he’s in the mood then he will rarely say no to someone’s advances. But Louis is distractingly attractive and charming, and he also has the cutest pet to ever be brought into this world. So he wants to make a good impression, especially since he doesn’t know Louis’ opinion on sleeping around. The last thing he wants to do is offend him.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Harry huffs. “I would definitely court you first. And then comes the seducing.”

“Tempting,” Louis says. He actually takes a step forward, but then the door opens and a couple who are so far down each other’s throats that Harry is surprised they can actually breathe stumbles in.

The two share a look and erupt into a fit of giggles. Louis grabs Harry by the wrist and runs outside, practically crashing through the door. A couple of club goers who are right next to the door (who stands near the loo, anyway?) are startled at the abrupt opening, and Harry throws apologies at them before begin dragged away. They stop near the bar, their laughter dying into light chuckles and smiles.

But then Louis’ phone vibrates, and all his attention is no longer on Harry. Whatever is on his screen makes him laugh again, deep and rich, and Harry doesn’t even have to wonder who sent it to him. He just knows.

“I’m gonna go find Li,” Louis says, patting Harry on the same spot that Nick had earlier. “Catch you later.”

When his slim figure fades into the crowd, Harry immediately pulls out his phone to send a quick text to Niall and Zayn. He then runs outside, almost knocking right into Nick’s long legs. The older man laughs, opens his mouth to probably say something snarky, but whatever brilliant quip he had planned never makes it out. Harry’s mouth crashes hard against his, and that’s the end of that.

* * *

Harry hates the term slut. He doesn’t think that the enjoyment you get from feeling good, and making other feel good, should be something negative. So even when he slips out of a stranger’s bed in the morning to catch a cab back to his flat, he never has any sort of shame lingering in his bones.

He’s not as satisfied this time though. Like, it’s not a case of the sex being bad. The marks on his back were enough to counter that thought. But after peppering Nick’s face in kisses and slipping out into the street, Harry can’t help but feel like something hadn’t gone quite right last night. He checks his phones for messages to discover that Zayn also successfully pulled and Niall had gone off to some party that people he met at the club invited him to. Everyone seemed to have a good time, so, why is Harry so out of it?

When he returns to his flat, he finds it empty. He wants to fall back to sleep but he’ll have to head to work in an hour, so there’s really no point in such a short nap. He makes himself a hearty breakfast of eggs and bacon then catches up on his Twitter feed. He smiles at a flurry of tweets made by his sister, all ranting about how she spent so much time stressing over college that now she has to find something else to stress about. He sends her poop emotes. Their relationship is magic.

He manages a quick shower; he had taken one with Nick last night, but his coworkers are pretty good at guessing whenever he gets laid so he doesn’t want to make it any easier on them. He used to work at a bakery, but it closed down last year. It broke Harry’s heart, honestly, as he had been working there since he was fifteen. Now he’s settled at an old fashioned diner that is full of charm and good people, and Harry likes it enough. He still pines for dough between his fingers and the constant smell of bread baking in the oven. He thinks he might be in love with that scent.

The walk to the diner should take about ten minutes. Harry takes longer, stopping by a fresh fruit stand and taking a bag full for lunch. He can always just eat the diner’s food, but there’s nothing that gets him more energized than sweet produce. Also he likes showing off how good he is at stuffing bananas into his mouth. It’s a gift, really.

The breakfast rush is already in full swing by the time he gets there. Jesy is calling out orders, her long hair tied in a ponytail that whips every way as she moves. They probably spend more time playing with each other’s hair than actually working, but neither has gotten a single complaint from customers so Tom lets them slide.

“There you are,” she calls out. “Can you take table three? I’m tied up right now.”

Harry nods. He quickly goes to the back to punch in and let Tom knows that he’s there before making his way to the table. And he almost turns back around once he reaches it because, what the hell, there’s Louis. His face is pressed against the tabletop and he looks like death. Still extremely attractive, of course, but he could definitely use a few more hours of sleep. Harry tries not to think of the reasons why he might have not gotten enough.

“Louis,” Harry says softly. “I’m here to take your order.”

“Die,” Louis mutters.

It takes all of Harry’s self-restraint not to sit down next to him and snuggle. Instead, he gently prods the guy with the end of his pen. Louis groans, but he does actually look up at this. When he sees who it is, his face brightens up with a smile. Harry tries not to be too happy that he got that reaction out of him. He fails.

“You don’t seem much like a morning person,” Harry laughs. “What are you doing here?”

Louis’ head topples back down onto the table. He sighs deeply, as if just talking drains all of his strength. “I forgot I had a job interview today. I had to, like, take the quickest shower ever. Pretty sure it would have been a Guinness World Record. But on the way I realized I was never going to make it and even if I did, I am way too fucking hungover to make a good impression. So I came here instead.”

“Oh,” Harry sits down at the other side of the table. Jesy shoots him a look from across the room, but she chats with her friends all the time when they drop by. He can have a few minutes. “Sorry. If I had known, then I would have—“

Louis shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Not even Liam knew. I was going to surprise him if I actually got the job.”

Curiosity tugs at him. Harry wonders if he should ask what the extent of Louis’ relationship with Liam is, if they’re dating or just really close friends. Lord knows how many times people have mistaken him and Zayn for a couple, so he understands the feeling. But there’s just something in his gut that tells him he won’t like the answer, so he settles for nudging Louis’ shoe with his own.

The smile on Louis’ face is genuine now. “It’s okay, Hazza. I’ll get the next one.”

“Hazza?”

“Yeah? Isn’t that—oh,” Louis scrunches up his nose, like he ate something unexpectedly sour. “That’s what that one guy called you. The one from the toilets?”

“You mean Nick?” Harry has to stop to think about it. “He did call me Hazza, didn’t he? You can call me it too, if you’d like. It’s not like the name is exclusively his.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

The silence that follows is very close to hitting awkward, and Harry decides that’s his cue to actually do his job. He takes Louis’ order and then attends the other customers who have thankfully been waiting patiently for him to get his shit together. Jesy rolls her eyes so hard it’s a miracle they don’t fall out of her head. The rest of the time Louis is there is spent normally, with Harry checking up on him whenever he has a free time. It’s only when Louis leaves that Harry realizes he never asked about his job situation; if he’s looking for work then he’s probably unemployed or unhappy with his current work situation. Harry should have given him words of encouragement instead of obsessing over whether or not he was fucking Liam. If he wasn’t in a crowded room full of paying customers, he would punch himself for being so inconsiderate.

Louis’ tip turns out to be a phone number. Perhaps he did something right after all.

* * *

 

He finally texts him a week and a half later on the pretext of wanting to see Diana. Louis invites them all over to his flat, and Harry is unsurprised to learn that he and Liam share a place together. He’s not even bothered by it; at this point, that setup is only to be expected. The two live closer to Niall, so Harry and Zayn met up there first. They buy a bunch of dog toys and treats for the occasion and once they are absolutely certain that Diana will be content for at least two years with all her new gifts, they set out.

Liam opens the door, wearing gym shorts and a tank top and that should be illegal. He’s all muscle and strong jawline that Harry can’t help but think, damn, I can see why Louis is into that. Zayn obviously agrees, with how he can’t take his eyes off of Liam’s abs. Harry wonders if it’s kosher to just have a great big orgy to resolve all this sexual frustration. He should maybe ask Niall if he’s into that. He puts that on his to do list for later.

Their place is really nice, much bigger than his own, and crammed with so much exercise equipment and electronics they might as well open up as a gym. Liam leads them to the kitchen where Louis is seated on top of the table, Diana nestled in his lap. None of them point out how unhygienic that is. The three of them practically rush at the two, squealing at the dog. Zayn will later deny making such a sound, but they all heard it. It happened.

Diana either remembers them or she just really enjoys people fawning over her. It’s probably the latter, but he pretends it’s the other option anyway. Zayn scoops her up in his arms like he did weeks ago, and Harry automatically pulls his iPhone out to record the magic unfolding before him. All his previous videos of Zayn playing with Diana scored so many likes that Harry has considered making a blog titled “Zayn and Animals.” It would be a hit. They could make t-shirts.

Niall gives her a quick look over and grumpily admits that she seems to be okay so they won’t have to steal her from them. Liam and Louis laugh, but Harry knows that it’s not a joke. They had the ski masks and everything prepared. No one will have to know. But while Niall is nuzzling his face into Diana’s fur, his eyes suddenly widen and he spins around to face Liam.

“You are the guys from the pet salon,” he says. “I thought I recognized you, but I was too shitfaced to tell.”

Louis and Liam share a look of confusion, but it morphs into understanding. “You’re that Irish guy who gave them baths? You left like right after we started going there.”

“I quit,” Niall shrugs. He then turns to Zayn, pointing a finger at him accusingly. “I told you it was them. But you were like, no, that’d be way too convenient. Fuck you and your convenience!”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

They move to the living room and claim the couches, Zayn and Niall on one with Louis and Liam on the other. Harry sits on the floor with Diana napping between his legs, and all he starts to plan that corgi kingdom all over again. What a beautiful world that will be. From his position he has a good view of Louis leaning his head against Liam’s shoulder. Every time Liam tries to put his head against Louis’, though, Louis pushes him back while grumbling. It’s very cute. Harry wants them to stop.

Like, Harry gets crushes on people pretty easily. He thought he was head over heels in love with a girl named Taylor for a while, but that blew up in his face and he decided that long distance relationships are not his thing. But there’s something that he finds endearingly attractive about Louis that has nothing to do with his good lucks. And that wouldn’t be a problem if Louis could actually tear his eyes off of Liam for five seconds. Jealousy is not something Harry is particularly fond of, but he’s beginning to be fairly well acquainted with it.

Diana pads out of the living room and Harry crawls after her. Niall calls out after him, shouting, “Nice arse,” and Harry wiggles it in response. He doesn’t stop though, and just following the dog until the bathroom. She flops right down onto the cold tile, her tongue lazily hanging out of her mouth. Harry settles down next to her.

“I missed you,” he says, scratching behind her ears. “I’m going to steal you away from here and we will move to Italy together. No one will ever know.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Louis says from the doorway. He’s leaning against the frame, his expression soft as he watches them on the ground. “You really need to stop trying to kidnap my dog, babe.”

Harry tries not to think too much about the pet name; he had called Zayn ‘love’ the other night. It’s just a thing with Louis apparently. “I will stop trying when she is mine and we are in Milan together.”

“Worst thief ever,” he replies. Louis sits down at the doorway, his legs crossed. Diana immediately shifts closer to him, and Harry once again feels a stab of betrayal. Et tu, Diana? “I’m surprised I didn’t find you trying to smuggle her out of that window.”

Harry glances at the small window above the shower. It’s barely big enough just to fit the dog, much less an entire person. “Unlike you, I’m not very compact.”

Louis scowls. “I’m not that much smaller than you.”

“I know. Why aren’t you out there with them?”

“They’re starting a Dark Knight Trilogy marathon,” he sighs. “I’m not a very big fan of Nolan’s work. They’re good movies, I mean, but something about the guy just rubs me the wrong way. So I decided to see what the lovebirds were up to.”

“Awww,” Harry grins. “So you do care.”

“Oh, Harold, I simply cannot stop thinking of you,” Louis dramatically puts a hand to his heart.

“I’m Harold now?”

Louis untangles his legs and spread them out so his feet are nudging Harry’s ankles. “Sure. Hazza’s out, so your new name is Harold.”

Harry frowns. “Seriously, Nick didn’t claim Hazza. You can call me it if you really want to.”

“No,” he says evenly. “I can’t.”

Harry wonders why Louis is so adamant at not using a nickname that someone else had given him, even though the person is someone he barely knows. Louis is probably just the type who doesn’t like to share things—his simple gestures and movements while interacting with people shows that he’s a bit on the possessive side, latching onto Liam whenever someone else gives him any attention. Harry probably shouldn’t be noticing these things.

“You all seem pretty close,” Louis says. “The three of you.”

Harry runs a hand through his hair, ruffling it up. He doesn’t fail to notice Louis’ eyes tracking the movement. “Actually, we just recently met Niall. It’s technically because of you guys we ran into each other, honestly, since he came over to us when he saw Diana.”

Louis looks surprised. “You’re shitting me. I thought you were best mates for years or something with how you get on.”

“That’s me and Zayn,” Harry explains. “If you asked our mums, we were connected in the womb. Which doesn’t really make sense since we were born different years, but. It feels true anyway.”

“Ah,” he nods. “Liam and I met at uni. We didn’t get on at all at first. I think he was close to throttling me at one point, but—well. Things change.”

He wants to ask why things change, and how much, but he doesn’t. That small voice in his head that tells him he won’t like the answer is still there, and he believes it. “How’s the job hunt going?”

Louis sighs, and Harry regrets asking. “It’s still going. I have another interview though, and I am decidedly not drinking the night before this time. I’ve learned from my foolish mistakes.”

“We all do dumb shit when we’re young and in love,” Harry sings, although he’s not certain if that’s actually the lyrics to anything. It might be. He most likely got them wrong.

“Don’t I know it,” Louis snorts. And that’s it, really, that’s the admission that Harry has been waiting for. Louis didn’t actually say anything outright, but the implication is enough, really, for Harry to know that this crush isn’t going to get him anywhere except shopping for ice cream to eat sad and alone. He considers excusing himself to join the others in watching the movie.

“Want to go to my room?” Louis asks before Harry can move. “I have the entire series of Friends on Blu-ray that I’ve been dying to watch. Unless you prefer Christian Bale’s lovely rendition of the Batman voice?”

He only thinks about it for a second. “Sure.”

They exit the bathroom with Diana on their heels. Louis leads them to the room right at the end of the hallway. Harry’s relieved when he points out Liam’s bedroom along the way; they don’t share a room, which is always a good sign. Louis’ room is dark; the walls are painted a deep blue and the curtains are drawn so no sunlight peeks through. His bed is huge, covering almost all of the space. There’s a laptop on top of it near the edge, close to toppling over onto the ground. Harry gently pushes it further away from the end. When he turns he spots Louis smiling at him.

“What a hero,” Louis coos. “Saving all my porn like that.”

Harry flips his hair over his eyes. “I couldn’t let you be separated from your teen lesbians rimming each other.” He frowns. “No, sorry, that was bad to joke about. That isn’t even real lesbian porn since it caters to men more so than actual gay women. Isn’t that disgusting?”

Louis laughs hysterically at that for a full minute. When he finally calms down, he reaches over to poke Harry on the cheek. “Are you even real? Are you sure that you’re not some sort of fairy child from Neverland?”

“Tights are pretty comfortable,” Harry says. “As long as you’re not wearing anything under them.”

“Harold,” Louis shakes his head. “What did we say about seducing? And I’ve seen your jeans, love, I’m fairly certain you don’t wear pants under most of your leg wear.”

Harry tries not to focus on the fact that Louis thinks he goes commando. He does, usually, but that’s beside the point. He spreads his legs open a little farther, an innocent movement, and doesn’t comment when Louis’ eyes widen as well. There are no ulterior motives here. No way. Harry vaguely remembers that he was ready to throw in the tower just ten minutes ago. He pushes the thought away.

They both lay down side by side with the laptop between them. Louis crosses their ankles together, as if it’s a thing between them. Harry thinks it might be now. Diana snoozes at the end of the bed after a hilarious yet adorable attempt of her trying to jump on top of it on her own. She failed spectacularly, but Louis lifted her up. Harry is pretty sure there are hearts shooting out of his eyes at this point, but whether it’s for Louis or Louis’ dog, he’s not entirely certain.

It turns out Louis is very intensely into old American sitcoms. Like, the type of intense where he remembers episode titles and can shoot out random facts and quotes with ease. It’s almost to a frightening level, but Harry finds it more cute than obsessive. He would happily sit around and let Louis discuss the off screen relationship between the actors with him any day. Not even on a flirting level; he’s genuinely interested.

Louis constantly pauses the show to explain a reference or joke to Harry, which then leads to them going off topic for about fifteen minutes until one of them remembers they’re supposed to be watching something. The cycle repeats so many time that they’re barely into the tenth episode of season one when they stop hearing noises from the living room. Curious, Harry and Louis tiptoe to the others only to find them all asleep, the title screen of The Dark Knight Rises playing. Louis chuckles and turns off the TV before slipping into Liam’s room. Harry waits, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other, until Louis returns with two blankets. He sets one over Liam and the other over Zayn and Niall.

“Shall we?” he whispers, gesturing back towards his room.

Harry nods, and they return to the bed. Louis doesn’t drag the laptop over though, and instead lifts the covers for Harry to slide under. Harry crawls beneath the sheets, stopping so he doesn’t invade Louis’ space too much. But he sighs impatiently at that and yanks on Harry’s arm so they’re laying close to one another.

“I sleep better with someone next to me,” Louis offers as an explanation. And Harry tries really hard not to read too much into the sentence. He doesn’t wonder how many times Louis slips into Liam’s bed in the middle of the night just because he doesn’t want to be alone. He pushes the thought away, forcing it as far from the moment as possible. Envy has no place here, he thinks. There’s only room for Louis and the way his breath comes out in small puffs as he drifts into sleep. There’s only Louis.

* * *

The five of them start spending more time together. Their schedules don’t really match, to be honest, especially with Niall preparing to go on tour soon. But they try to make as much time as possible for each other as they can. And it’s nice. Great, actually. Amazing. Harry wonders how did he and Zayn make it on their own for so long because they all fit together so well it’s hard to believe they weren’t always a thing. In a weird way it was through each other that they found each other, but when Harry points that out Louis just tells him that he isn’t making any sense.

“You’re not making any sense,” Louis snorts, stuffing a chip into his mouth.

“No, Lou,” Harry whines. “Just think about it. Goats on the moon. Can you imagine how neat that would be?”

“And what would the bloody goats do on the moon?”

He considers it. “Goat stuff. If they’re not happy there we send them back. Simple as that.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

They were at the pub again. It has become a regular hangout of theirs despite Zayn’s efforts to make sure it did not become a thing. He grumbles with every sip he takes, although the fact that he does actually get drinks says enough. Harry thinks he’s just doing it for show at this point; he doesn’t want to admit he was wrong.

It’s just the two of them at the booth for the moment; the other three wandered off for various reasons that Harry failed to keep track of. Louis’ legs are hanging over Harry’s lap and all Harry wants to do is run his hands over them. He thinks to himself that this is the perfect time to kiss him, but he doesn’t entertain the idea any further. If he ever gives life to the desire then he might ruin everything.

He doesn’t want to ruin this.

Louis glances at his phone and frowns. He flashes Harry an apologetic look before sliding out of the booth. He stretches and his Rolling Stones tee slides up, revealing some tummy that Harry desperately wants to kiss. Stupid sexy Louis.

“I’ll be right back,”he says before heading towards the exit. Harry watches him go, wondering who it could have been. He knows who it was, really, but it’s nice to pretend otherwise. Maybe Lottie or his mum. Or his best mate from back home. Or an old fling that suddenly revealed that Louis is the father to her child. It would be nice for Diana to have a sibling or two. Harry has to remind himself again that Louis did not actually give birth to a different species.

Zayn and Niall come back before Louis does. The blond has to leave early because he has rehearsals at “the asscrack of dawn,” and instead of leaving he spends a good half hour complaining about having to leave early because he has rehearsals. Louis still doesn’t come back. Neither does Liam, Harry notices, but he doesn’t want to jump to conclusions. Maybe Liam really had to pee. He has that kidney thing, after all. Do kidneys have anything to do with bladder issues?

“How the fuck should I know?” Zayn mutters into his glass.

“You’re the smart one,” Harry whines. “How am I going to discover new information if it’s not from you?”

“Google. Like everyone else.”

“You kids and your technology,” Harry says, doing his best old man impression. It’s not much different from his normal voice. “Back in my day, we had to travel ten miles to google useless facts. Both ways. In the snow. Over the mountains and through the woods.”

“You’re like four.”

“I hope not,” Louis says, sliding back onto the seat. “That would make a few things rather awkward.”

Harry would normally have a comeback for that, something dirty and cheeky that would make Louis smirk and fire something even worse back. But all he can do is stare at how swollen Louis’ lips are, and how his cheeks are flushed in a way that he has only seen in his head. His hair, which was perfectly styled when he arrived, is disheveled. It doesn’t take much of an imagination to figure out what has been going on.

Liam arrives a few minutes later, looking just as unkempt as his flatmate. He actually looks embarrassed, like he’s nervous of what someone might say at his appearance. Zayn just raises an eyebrow at them and Niall is prattling some joke that is probably really funny, but Harry isn’t paying enough attention to it. He’s trying to breathe.

Zayn is the one who notices. He leans in towards him, lowering his voice. “Hey. Hey, Harry, you okay?”

The other three glance at them. Harry nods, pulling out his wallet to place his share of the tab on top of the table. He stands up, faking a yawn that he hopes is convincing even if he doesn’t put much effort into it. Acting is not his strong point. “Just a bit tired, is all. I think I’m calling it a night, fellas. Enjoy yourselves.”

“Ugh. I should go too,” Niall groans. He doesn’t move.

Zayn is still looking at him like he knows something’s up, and he does know. Being friends for so long means they can read each other like a book, one with the pages worn down from frequent usage and favorite passages highlighted. Harry decides that he’ll tell him, but not right now. He waves bye to all of them and walks out into the cool night.

He doesn’t get very far before he hears footsteps running after him. Sighing, he stuffs his hands into his pockets before spinning around. “Zayn, it’s alright, I know how to make it home.”

“I’m sure you do,” someone who is very much not Zayn responds. It’s Liam, actually, and Harry is so surprised that his mouth is hanging open for a good thirty seconds. He closes it. Wasn’t he supposed to be good at surprises? He can’t remember anymore.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “What’s up?”

“I,” Liam starts. He glances down at his feet, chewing dutifully on his lower lip. He kind of looks like a kicked puppy. Diana probably takes more after him than Louis. “I just want to say thank you.”

What. “What?”

Liam fumbles with his words for a second, but then he takes a deep breath and looks directly at Harry. “Louis has been having a little trouble lately. With losing his job and—and other stuff. He hasn’t really been in a good place until recently. And you’re a part of that. All of you are, and I’m really grateful for it. You’re excellent mates, all of you. So thank you.”

Harry almost laughs. He’s been stressing over something as stupid as a crush when Louis has apparently been going through a difficult time. Like, just how stupid can he be? He rubs at his eyes with his knuckles, trying really hard not to do something lame like cry. Again. He really needs to stop doing that.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he finally manages to say. “We’re friends. Being there for each other is what friends do, right? So we’ll all be here for him. And for you too.”

The smile that settles on Liam’s face is so lovely that Harry wants to keep in his pocket for rainy days. “Thank you, Harry. Really.”

As Harry watches Liam go back inside the pub, he wonders what will mark his place in Louis’ life. He could be a bookmark, maybe, something solid and firm that can be brought with him as Louis moves forward. But he’ll most likely be dogeared along, ready to be smoothed out whenever his scene in the story is over.

The scary thing is, he doesn’t think he minds.

* * *

The day Niall leaves on his tour is filled with a lot of sobbing and cuss words. Harry still has no idea who the band that’s headlining is, but that doesn’t matter because he knows Niall is going to be the star and everyone will adore him and he can stop crying if he wants to. He’ll be gone for three months, which is basically about as long as they’ve known each other. And as much as Harry wants to koala cling to the guy, they all know that this is an amazing opportunity for him. So they somehow manage to cut the farewells under an hour. It’s an accomplishment.

When the van he leaves in is only a tiny speck in the horizon, the remaining four trudge back to Liam and Louis’ flat. Harry collapses face down onto one of the couches, ready to hibernate until the three months are over. But then there’s a weight on his legs and any plans of falling asleep are shot to pieces.

“Get off,” he yells, trying to kick his feet but failing miserably.

“Then stop hogging the couch,” Louis says. He bounces once, twice. Harry just groans at the contact.

“There are two of them. Go to the other one, Lou.”

“I’m pretty fond of this one, actually. So move over.”

He doesn’t, but he also can’t, considering Louis is sitting on him. So he stays there, his face full of cushion and his legs losing all feeling as the circulation in them gets cut. He tries to shuffle forward a bit, but he barely manages an inch with Louis’ bum holding him firmly in place. Times like this makes Harry wonders if this is all just some sort of elaborate joke Zayn organized just to get back at him for the time Harry blew a vuvuzela in Zayn’s face while he was wanking. It’s highly possible. Zayn doesn’t forget transgressions against him.

“Boys,” Liam calls out from the kitchen. “How about pasta for lunch? I can go and buy some garlic bread for that authentic Italian vibe.”

Louis rolls his eyes and opens his mouth, probably to say something condescending, but Harry speaks first. “Actually, do you mind if I make the bread myself? It’ll be fun.”

“Oh,” Liam blinks. “Yeah, sure. I didn’t know you could make bread.”

Zayn peeks his head from the kitchen doorway. “You guys haven’t seen him on his cycle yet. Pastries and bread, nonstop, for weeks. I gained like ten pounds the last time it happened.”

“You can’t complain if you still ate all of it,” Harry pouts.

Louis finally moves off of Harry. “How about Liam and I go get the stuff for pasta and you two get started on the bread then? Er, if we have the ingredients. How do you even make bread?”

“We’ll manage,” Zayn says. Despite answering Louis, his eyes are focused solely on Harry. His expression is soft, with a hint of pity mixed in, and Harry just knows what conversation is about to come up. He almost announces that he no longer wants to bake anything, but Liam and Louis are already grabbing their keys and heading out.

Zayn doesn’t bring anything up immediately. It turns out that the boys don’t have any flour, but they knock on a neighbor’s doors and flutter their eyelashes until they’re given it. Zayn isn’t as good as baking as Harry is, which is to be expected considering it wasn’t his job to be good at it. But they’ve been together for so long that they work effortlessly with one another, squeezing past each other’s bodies and always knowing what the other wants before he has to ask. Harry laments that they never fell in love because they would be the ultimate couple. That’s probably why they didn’t.

It’s while they’re kneading the dough that Zayn strikes. He nudges his shoulder against Harry’s, his lips turned upwards into a small smile that could still light up an entire city block. “So, Louis.”

“Lovely chap,” Harry says. “His feet kind of stink though. Maybe we should have an intervention?”

“Shut up, you love his smelly feet.”

“I do,” Harry frowns. “Zayn, it’s fine. It’s just a little crush.”

Zayn pours a little water into the mixture. “Right. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve caught you just staring at him? With tiny hearts popping out of your eyes? Harry, Cara was a crush. I don’t know what this is.”

“It can’t be anything else but a crush. Like, what about his thing with Liam?”

He shrugs. “What about his thing with Liam?”

“That’s it exactly,” Harry slams his fist into the dough, too roughly, and his hand stings from the impact. He winces. “I don’t know what the thing is? But there is definitely a thing. And then, like, Louis flirts with me? A lot? And I can’t tell if it’s actual flirting or if that’s just how he is. I’m so confused.”

“Hm,” Zayn hums. “It would have been a lot easier if we just fell in love with each other.”

“That’s what I said!”

They share a laugh and things quiet down for a minute. He once again finds himself wondering if things would have been better if they just grabbed Diana and ran. They have at least sixteen emergency plans set up just in case they ever need to steal her away from the two. Admittedly, eleven of them were created before they even got to know Liam and Louis. But that doesn’t mean that they wouldn’t hesitate to implement any of them if the situation calls for it. Harry is very serious about that corgi.

Liam and Louis return much later than they said they would, looking far too pleased considering all they supposedly did was grocery shop. Harry doesn’t care. He hand feeds Zayn pieces of bread the whole time they wait.

* * *

Everything changes about six weeks into Niall’s tour.  Zayn is visiting his family so Harry has the flat all to himself. And it’s not that he’s lonely, really, but his separation anxiety is terrible and if he sleeps in Zayn’s bed a few nights, no one has to know. He’s sitting in the bed now, his laptop open in front of him in a Skype call with Gemma, when there’s a knock at the door. He ends the call with his sister, promising to hit her up again as soon as possible, and goes to see who the hell would visit him at eleven PM.

Louis would visit him at eleven PM. Louis who is a wreck, his eyes stained red and puffy. He’s not even wearing shoes, Harry notes, and panic starts to crawl at his throat. Something happened. Something bad, and now Louis is crying, and when does he ever cry? He has seen everyone else shed a tear or two, but never Louis. He locks the door behind them and leads him to the couch.

“Sorry,” Louis manages to say once he’s seated. “I just—I didn’t know where else to go. I can leave.”

“You’re not leaving,” Harry says automatically. “You can stay here for as long as you like, Lou.”

He doesn’t focus on what Louis said. Because of course he has somewhere he can go. His own flat, with Liam, unless Liam is the reason that he’s here right now. Harry doesn’t feel relieved at the thought of the two of them fighting though. He’s just sad.

“Thanks. Um, can I get some tea?”

Harry nods, hastily making his way to his pathetic excuse of a kitchen. “What would you like?”

“If you consider it good, then I don’t want it.”

Okay, so. Even when Louis is depressed and crying he can still be a cheeky bastard. That’s good to know. Harry picks out what he thinks a tea snob would approve of and puts the kettle on. He doesn’t want to leave Louis by himself for too long, even if he is just about ten feet away from him. When he returns to the couch, Louis has his knees pulled up to his chest. His chin is resting on the top of them, and he just looks so small that Harry wants nothing more than to just scoop him up and tell him that everything is going to be okay. He doesn’t even know what’s wrong though, so he can’t give out empty promises like that. He gives the tea instead.

Louis takes an experimental sip. And then another. He nods in approval. “That’ll do, pig. That’ll do.”

Harry decides right then and there he wants to marry him.

He doesn't propose, obviously, but instead settles down right next to Louis. He scoots over until they’re pressed against each other, their sides aligning from their shoulders to their feet. It’s cozy and it’s just him and Louis and all Harry wants to do is pet him and ask him what’s wrong then carry him away into the sunset. Or carry him as far away as he can before his arms get tired, and then they can take a train or something. He’ll figure out the details later. What matters right now is Louis.

Louis doesn’t offer any explanations though. He simply sits there, sipping at his tea, his eyes never leaving the blank TV screen in front of them. Harry almost offers to turn it on, but he has a feeling that’s not what Louis actually wants right now. He wishes he knew Louis better so he wouldn’t have to blindly guess at these sort of things.

They sit for what feels like ages, until Louis’ tears dry up and his tea is gone. He gently sets the mug on the floor next to the couch. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, like he can’t remember how to make words flow from his brain into the air. He closes his mouth. And he kisses Harry.

Harry retracts anything he has ever said about being good with surprises. He’s horrible at them, he decides, because he’s so in shock that he momentarily forgets to breathe. Although that might also be because Louis is kissing him, which is enough to knock the air out of anyone’s lungs. The angle isn’t very comfortable, but as soon as the thought hits Harry, Louis shifts their bodies so he’s straddling him. The kiss becomes hungrier, less timid and questioning. All Harry can think is, Louis is here and he’s kissing me and he wants me. Louis, Louis, Louis.

He’s not exactly sure when his shirt is removed, but it is, and Louis is sucking on the skin there. He abruptly stops when his hand brushes against the third nipple, and he actually has to get up and walk away to laugh hysterically for about a minute before returning. Harry could not be more turned on even if he tried.

Instead of getting back on the couch, though, Louis tugs at Harry’s hand and gestures towards the bedrooms. Harry eagerly stands, and they skip there, giggling madly along the way. Louis almost goes into Zayn’s room since the door is still open, but Harry pulls him further until they reach his own. He realizes that Louis has never actually been in his bedroom before; they normally hang out at his and Liam’s place or Niall’s. He doesn’t have time to appreciate the moment because Louis is already dragging him inside, practically tossing him onto the bed.

Harry barely has time to recover before Louis is on him again, his lips hard against his own. It’s not the only thing that’s hard, and they are still wearing their jeans for some reason. Fucking jeans. Harry tugs at his own, and Louis seems to understand. They both struggle to pulls theirs off, and this is the curse of skinny jeans. They make you look good so you can get laid, but then when you’re actually getting laid they’re impossible to take off. It’s a conspiracy.

Louis manages to get his off first so he helps Harry yank his away. And then Louis’ face is like, right there, and Harry sends out a silent thank you to whichever god is in charge of moments like this. Louis brushes his lips against the underside of his cock, softly, like he’s kissing it good night. He then sucks at it, slowly making his way back to the head.

“Babe,” he says, “do you have any lube?”

Harry would slam the lube down like an American football and dance around the bed if he could. That means separating his dick from Louis’ mouth, however, so he decides against that. Instead he reaches out as far as he can for his drawer. His hand is a few inches too short though, so he’s just grabbing at air until Louis sighs and goes to get it himself. Harry is greatly disappointed by the momentary loss of contact. Louis is back as quickly as he left, though, coating his fingers in the lube.  

Once his fingers are slick with it, Louis traces his hand around Harry’s rim playfully. Harry lets out a shuddering gasp, pushing towards Louis. He seems to take the hint because he sticks a finger in him and just lets it sit there for a second, sleek and still. But then he’s pumping it in and out of him in a steady pace, adding in another finger. Harry squirms, but he can do more. He gently tugs at Louis’ wrist, making the older guy chuckle lightly.

“Want more, babe?” Louis murmurs into his ear. “Another one, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry says. Or he thinks he says. He’s not certain if anything that’s coming out of his mouth is making any sense at all because the only thought that is able to occupy his head is Louis. He almost wants to cry. Louis is here for him and they’re doing this together. Not Harry and Nick, not Louis and Liam. Harry and Louis.

Louis slides a third finger in, curling them as he fingers him. He presses kisses against Harry’s face while he does it—his nose, his cheeks, his eyelids. Everywhere except his lips. They’re light caresses, nothing but short love letters to his skin but Harry wants to keep each peck until he dies. But then Louis’ lips are crashing against his and all thoughts are wiped from Harry’s mind. The kiss is a sharp contrast to the earlier ones; it’s rough and needy and full of bite. Louis sucks on his bottom lip while pumping his fingers, and oh.

He pulls them out, one by one, never once breaking the kiss as if he needs it to breathe. He might, because Harry does. He almost pulls back to protest at the lack of contact except then he sees Louis opening up a condom wrapper. He must have taken it out along with the lube, although Harry hadn’t noticed it. Louis stops midway of ripping it open and locks eyes with Harry.

“Is this okay?” he asks. “Sorry, I just sort of assumed and—“

“Stop talking and fuck me,” Harry says, his voice low and dark and he can see Louis’ Adam’s apple bob as he gulps. He almost giggles in delight at the reaction, but that would ruin the mood. Instead he pours lube onto his palms and rubs it over Louis’ cock. It’s way too much, he realizes about two seconds in, and so it’s all over the bed sheets. Oh well. He yanks the wrapper out of his hand as well and is about to slide it over him, but he glances at Louis’ face and that makes him freeze.

Louis is staring at him, his eyes crinkly from laughter and pleasure and maybe, possibly, love. He just looks so absolutely delighted to be here, as if there is nowhere else he can even think of being. He could just really like sex; perhaps he always has a smile on his face as if he won the lottery when he gets sucked off. But Harry thinks, he hopes, that this is special. Just for him. Only for him.

He rolls the condom over Louis, slowly, and never once takes his eyes away from his. Once it on, he gives him another coating of lube, just as messily as the first time. Louis playfully chastises him, asking if he has any idea what the price of lube is in this economy and yet here he is, wasting it all away. Harry shuts him up with a swift tug at his dick. He considers himself the victor here.

Louis enters him slowly, painfully slow, but it’s the kind of pain that burns with pleasure. Harry arches his back, wanting Louis as deep as he possibly can get him. He wants him. He digs his nails into Louis’ thighs, urging him on. He catches the hint, thrusting more deeply and with more speed. The pace quickens, and soon the only sounds that can be heard are skin slapping against skin and the moans that erupt from their mouths. Louis keeps mumbling something, and Harry can’t tell if it’s his name or something else.

Harry forces his eyes open; he wants to see the way Louis looks when he’s engulfed by utter ecstasy. He wants to see Louis’ face when he reaches that point, the face that Harry caused with nothing but his body. It’s treading on the possessive side, he knows, but. But. He loses his train of thought as Louis yells out his name into the darkness.

When Louis comes he lets out small gasps, the tiniest huffs of breath that contradict everything that’s going on. His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, and Harry has never seen a prettier orgasm. He immediately captures Louis’ lips with his, kissing deeply and desperately and he never wants them to come down from this high. He wants it to stretch on and on until the sun rises and sets again.

A sleepy smile spreads across Louis’ face once they part. He’s about to say something, but then he suddenly looks alert. He glances down at Harry’s still throbbing cock, at how it’s leaking at the strain to release. With a sly grin, he moves downwards to finish what he had started earlier. He sucks at the head, almost making Harry jump at the contact. He doesn’t tease him this time, though, and goes straight to it. Louis deep throats him, only pausing to get some air before sucking him off once again. And every time he pulls off, he litters Harry’s cock with kisses and licks, never leaving it unattended. It’s wonderful and magical and Harry is right at the edge, he’s—yes.

“Lou,” he croaks, tugging lightly at Louis’ hair.

He understands the warning. Louis slowly pulls away from him, although it’s somewhat too slow because Harry spills on him. It splatters on his neck and on his left cheek, but Louis doesn’t seem to mind. He actually laughs, loud and bright, and wipes some of it off with his fingers. Instead of cleaning it, though, he presses the dirty fingers against Harry’s forehead and draws what feels like an arrow there.

“But I believe,” Louis says in a serious tone, “that Aang can save the world.”

Harry never kissed anyone harder in his life after that.

After they have thrown out the condom and cleaned themselves up, they crawl into bed together. It’s still dirty from all the lube and sex, but that never killed anyone. Harry will wash it in the morning. He giggles at the thought of Louis being there in the morning, next to him, and he has to cover his face to hide the stupid smile on it. He feels like a fourteen year old again, only he has much more experience with his hands.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” Louis suddenly says, his voice somewhat muffled by the pillow. “Like, since you first tried to kidnap my dog.”

“I returned her to you,” Harry whines. “Just let it go already.”

“Never, Harold. Never.”

Louis takes hold of his hand, lacing their fingers together. They stay like that for a while, slowly letting sleep overtake them yet never actually succumbing to it. At one point Harry thinks Louis is finally asleep, but then his grip tightens on Harry’s hand and he’s smiling in that lovely way of his. It’s way too much. Harry isn’t sure how they got here from him not even being sure if Louis liked him in that way. He wants to ask, but the question is stuck in his throat. He doesn’t want to know. So he asks something else instead.

“How long have you had Diana?”

He hums in response, and Harry almost thinks that he won’t get an answer. But then Louis says, “Liam and I used to have another roommate, right? Really shitty guy named Matt. But we met him through one of Liam’s mates, and we needed a third person. So we were like, sure, why the hell not? Biggest mistake ever. Anyway, one day he just brings Diana home as a pup, saying his girlfriend gave it to him as a birthday gift. Except then they break up and he moves out soon after. Without the dog.”

He sighs, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. “Liam and I were like, shit. We can’t afford to live with just the two of us, much less have a pet. We were going to drop her off at a shelter for someone to adopt, but we did some research and decided against it. So we took up extra work to afford it all. But then I got fired because of some fucking wanker, and—well. That’s another story. We had to move into a smaller place and I’ve been looking for a good job since. Liam has two to make up for it.”

“That sucks,” Harry says. Very lamely says. He wishes he could give some sort of epic speech about how Louis will conquer all hurdles that cross his path.

“A little,” Louis shrugs. “I love Diana though. I don’t care if she’s expensive, I wouldn’t give her up for the world. I was, like, really freaked that day we lost her. I didn’t show it because I didn’t want my sister to feel bad. But I was—if she was gone forever, then like one of the only bright things in my life would be gone. I couldn’t handle that. Not again.”

Harry tries not to focus on the implications of that. Because it means that Louis isn’t happy. Louis, who always has a joke up his sleeve and a smirk on his lips, isn’t happy. And Harry doesn’t know him well enough to know why that is, what’s wrong, but he wants to be there for him. He can’t erase all of Louis’ problems, but he can make them easier to endure. He squeezes his hand.

“I’m glad you lost her then,” Harry says. “Sorry, that sounds terrible. But I got to meet you because of it. If it wasn’t for Diana, I wouldn’t have you or Niall or Liam in my life.”

“I’m not too sure about that.”

Harry frowns. “Why’s that?”

“Because,” Louis kisses Harry’s knuckles. “I kind of feel like we would have found each other no matter what.”

The five of them would find each other no matter what. Harry and Louis, no matter what. He falls asleep to that thought.

* * *

 

Harry wakes up the next day alone. There’s a note taped to the drawer, the writing sloppy as if it had been written in haste.

_i have to go see liam. see you later h x_

He doesn’t leave the bed until Zayn comes home.

* * *

They don’t speak to Louis and Liam for about two weeks. Most of it has to do with Zayn being livid, cussing out a storm if anyone even mentions Louis’ name. Liam gets shafted just because they can’t ignore one without the other. No one is happy.

Harry isn’t entirely sure what he expected. Probably that he and Louis would elope and have babies together and a billion animals. Harry always wanted a naked cat, so he would have started a separate kingdom for them alongside the corgi one. Why must great plans always fail before they’re brought into fruition? Anyway, the point is, he really wanted that night to be the start of a beautiful relationship that will last a hundred lifetimes and more.

But Louis had come to him because he was upset. He was in tears, probably over something that had happened with Liam. And after he got all that frustration out, he went back to Liam. It’s—does that make Harry the rebound? Was he just there to help Louis organize his thoughts? He doesn’t think Louis would use him like that. He also doesn’t believe anything that had been said was a lie. He wants to know what his and Liam’s relationship is.

He wants to know but he’s too scared to ask, and they haven’t spoken to each other in weeks. Harry can’t do distance; every minute they spend away from each other feels like a mile. Every day is a light year. He doesn’t want to see him though. If he sees him then he won’t know what he will say, and that scares him most of all.

The silence is broken when Liam sends them both a text message. They’re hosting a party at their place on Saturday and they want them to come. The invite is a little too insistent, so Harry knows that it’s not just for the sake of the party that he wants them over. Liam misses them. Harry wonders if it’s possible to become so attached to a group of people so quickly. Either way they managed it.

“Are you sure you want to go?” Zayn asks for the twentieth time. “We don’t have to.”

Harry nods. “Yeah. I—I don’t want to ignore them forever? I’m upset, but we’re going to have to face them at some point. It might as well be now.”

The air is chilly so they bundle up and make their way to the flat. They hook their arms together as they walk, singing loudly to Kanye even though Zayn is embarrassed by all the looks that are sent their way. He doesn’t stop, though, so Harry knows he’s pleased. Zayn missed them as well, but he put that aside in favor for Harry. He really, really wishes they could have just gotten together. Everything would be so much easier.

They hear the music before they enter the flat. They must have bribed the neighbors or else they are definitely going to get a noise complaint before the night is through. Zayn and Harry pause once they reach the door, hesitating to enter. If they are going to back out this is the time to do it, but before Zayn can even ask the question the door is opening.

They don’t recognize the person who opens it, but he ushers them in as if they’re best friends. Harry just shrugs and follows, Zayn close behind him. The flat is filled to the brim; people are laughing and drinking and occupying every crevice. The music vibrates against the walls, and Harry should have known that these guys were popular. He’s sad that Niall isn’t home yet. He would have loved this.

The two of them stick to a wall, next to a group of girls taking various selfies. Harry photo bombs a few of them until they notice what he’s doing and move away. He doesn’t regret a thing. Zayn is pressed up against his side, his fingers twitching slightly. He’s probably dying for a cigarette, but the boys have a strict no smoking inside rule. Well, Liam does, Louis doesn’t particularly care and often breaks said rule.

“Go have a smoke in the balcony,” Harry says. “I’ll be here.”

“You sure?”

He nods. “I’ll be a good boy on my own. I promise.”

Zayn looks like he’s about to argue further, but instead he just gives Harry’s shoulder a tight squeeze and walks away. The moment he’s gone, Harry is instantly more aware of just how crowded everything is. All the exercise equipment has been moved out of the living room, possibly to the bedrooms. None of the faces are ones he recognizes and it just hits Harry that he is just a tiny part of Louis’ life. They have only known each other for a short amount of time, and there are countless bits and pieces of Louis that Harry doesn’t touch. He might never touch them. He’s not sure if that matters or not.

He finally spots Louis in a small huddle of people, laughing as he sips at whatever’s in his cup. Liam is right next to him, his arm around Louis’ shoulder, and that’s to be expected. He seems to be telling some sort of story that must be hilarious given that everyone around him is cracking up. Or maybe they’re just happy to be around him. Harry can’t be the only one who is that sappy towards him. He remembers Louis saying that he doesn’t have that many good things in his life, and wonders if he actually is.

Liam spots him first, and his face practically lights up in joy. Harry smiles back in response and waves. What had happened still hurts, but the two of them are infectious. Staying away just makes him feel worse. Liam nudges at Louis then points towards Harry’s direction. When the shorter guy spots him, there’s an obvious look of surprise on his face that transforms into something else. Harry isn’t sure what.

Liam detaches himself from Louis and makes his way over. Harry ignores the fact that Louis is still with the other group, but he is the host of the party and Harry isn’t the only guest. Liam wraps him up in a gigantic hug, lifting him off of the ground. They spin around, laughing wildly as people dodge Harry’s dangling legs. When Liam finally lets him down, they both stumble a bit out of dizziness.

“I’m glad you came,” Liam says. “Is…?”

Harry points towards the balcony. “Smoking.”

He didn’t think it was possible, but Liam’s smile actually widens. “Great. I was worried that—I’m just glad. Come on, let’s get you a drink.”

Harry glances back at the spot where Louis had been, but he and the crowd are gone now. He tries not to read too much into Louis not coming over to say hi. The two of them squeeze through the mass of people until they reach the kitchen. It’s covered with bottles of alcohol and light snacks, such a stark difference to what it looks like normally that Harry almost pulls out his phone to snap a picture. Liam is already pouring him a drink though, so Harry takes that instead.

“I’m a bit rubbish at mixing,” Liam admits. “But it shouldn’t taste too much like shit.”

Harry takes an experimental drink. “It’s actually pretty decent.”

“Thanks, mate.”

They stand like that for a while, leaning against the counter as they people watch. Harry spots Louis again with the same crowd of girls as earlier. They’re taking more picture together, Louis pulling ridiculous faces with every click of the camera.

“You know,” Liam starts, “it’s not like—well.”

He fumbles with his words, continuously starting and stopping until Harry holds a hand out to shush him. He doesn’t want Liam to think he owes him an explanation. Whatever the truth is, Harry still isn’t sure he wants to know. At least not right now.

“It’s cool,” Harry says. “Everything’s cool, Liam.”

Someone named Andy kidnaps Liam shortly after that, leaving Harry alone with his drink. He considers going outside to find Zayn, he even begins to move towards that direction, but at the last moment he changes his mind. Instead he heads for the hallway that leads to the bedrooms. He’s surprised to find Louis’ door unlocked, and even more so when they’re no one making out inside of it. There is, however, Diana. She’s nestled on top of the comforter, snoozing peacefully. How she is able to sleep with all the noise echoing around them is a mystery, but Harry is envious of that skill.

Harry crawls on top of the bed and settles down next to her. She suddenly lifts her head up, alert, but when the corgi sees who it is she just flops right back down. Harry is somewhat offended; she hasn’t seen him in weeks and yet she’s acting so nonchalant about it? Kids these days. They’re so loving when they’re young but the moment they hit their teen years it all goes to shit.

He doesn’t have much time to lament over this when the door opens again. He hears him before he actually sees him; Louis cursing loudly a s he steps inside. “Fuck, I thought I locked this. Who the hell—“

When he suddenly cuts himself off, Harry knows that Louis has seen him. He sits up on the bed, trying not to jostle Diana too much. Louis is still at the doorway, but he at least has the sense to shut the door behind him. He locks it.

“Oops.”

“Hi.”

They just look at each other until Louis tiptoes over. Harry isn’t sure why he does why, why he doesn’t just walk normally, but Louis always has a reason. The bed dips slightly as Louis adds his weight onto it, stopping just short of where Harry is sitting. Diana ignores them both.

“Why aren’t you at the party?” Louis asks quietly.

Harry considers just shrugging as an answer, but decides against it. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen my favorite person in the world.”

“Oh, Harold,” Louis flutters his eyelashes. “No need to flatter me when you’re already in my bed.”

“I was talking about Diana.”

“Fucker.”

They laugh, and they can do this. Harry is glad. He’s confused about all of this. He doesn’t know what’s going on between Louis and Liam, and he doesn’t know where he stands in the middle of it. But they didn’t lose each other, and that’s what matters right now. He can deal with the rest later. There’s no need to rush it.

Unlike Liam, Louis doesn’t try to offer an explanation. Instead he talks about the last two weeks they have spent apart. He has likely got a job; he doesn’t want to jinx it, but he was called in for a second interview and the manager is practically in love with him. He shares stories of his sisters and how the twins performed a fashion show via Skype for him the other night. He talks of home and love and warm things, everything that Harry isn’t certain he’ll be able to touch but maybe, someday, he will. He wants to kiss Louis.

He doesn’t. He simply listens and watches and hopes that this moment never ends, that they’ve been cast away from the rest of the world and can just exist like this. That can’t happen though, and soon Harry’s phone is ringing. It’s Zayn, who is probably worried, so he excuses himself to answer it.

“Harry?” Zayn breathes out a sigh. It might be of relief. It’s hard to tell because of the reception and the music. “I’ve been searching for you. Did you leave?”

“No,” Harry tugs at a loose curl. “I’m with Diana. And Louis. We’re in his room.”

There’s no reply for a few seconds, and Harry wonders if the connection is cut. “Okay. I’m in the kitchen with Liam—hey. Guess what? Niall just called. His last show is here on Christmas Eve, and he wants us all to go.”

“Seriously? Yeah, let’s do it,” Harry practically shouts. His and Zayn’s mums are going to France together at the end of the year, so they don’t have to go home for the holiday. The thought of getting to witness Niall perform is enough to excite him though. He has heard him play before, but there’s a difference between fucking around in the living room with a guitar and an actual professional performance.

He looks at Louis. “Are you going to come?”

Louis doesn’t answer right away. Instead he leans over Diana and presses a kiss to her nose, light and loving. When he finally returns his gaze to Harry, he looks almost shy. “Not sure yet. I’ll let you all know.”

Harry almost asks why. He doesn’t.

* * *

The moment they see Niall they all crash against him, engulfing him in the best group hug of all time. They stay like that for a while, all of them laughing and shouting and dangerously close to spilling over onto the ground. Harry can hear a few people chuckling around them, most likely the production crew for the tour. He shuts them out. This is about the five of them right now, not anyone else.

When they finally manage to untangle themselves from each other, at least ten minutes have passed and all the crew members are beginning to rush. The show starts in about fifteen minutes and they need Niall to be somewhere, now, but he’s just grinning madly at the boys. He’s already sweaty and he needs to bleach his hair again but to Harry he looks perfect. He tackles the blond again, burrowing his face into the crook of his neck. He didn’t realize just how much he missed him until now.

“Thanks for coming fellas,” he says, wiping his face. Harry isn’t sure if he’s cleaning away sweat or tears or both. “I can’t wait ‘til you see the show and buy our album.”

“I knew it,” Zayn deadpans. “You were only using us for sales.”

“And for your nice body,” Niall reaches over and kisses Zayn on the cheek. That orgy idea may be possible.

Someone in a headset runs over, stropping abruptly in front of them. “Niall, you dick. You can catch up later, we got a show to do.”

Niall pouts, like he’s actually debating to delay the show if it means getting to talk to them more. Harry jumps in, “We’ll see you later, yeah? Go kick some ass. We’ll buy ten CDs each.”

That perks him up. “You better. Oh, and Lou? Thanks, man.”

They all hug again, wasting a good five minutes, until the headset get actually picks Niall up and drags him away. They watch until the two turn a corner, and Liam gestures to where the stage is. “Shall we find our seats then?”

They don’t have seats, technically, since they’re on the floor. The venue is pretty spacious, which was a surprise to Harry when they first arrived. It turns out the band that he has never heard of has gotten a pretty decent following since their tour began. Even better is the fact that because of that, Niall’s band has as well. A group of teen girls next to them are all actually wearing shirts with the blond’s face on them. He leans in towards them.

“I’ve seen him naked,” Harry mutters to the ones nearest him, pointing at their shirts. The girls’ eyes widen and they begin to talk excitedly, throwing questions out at him but he’s already huddling close to his group. He’ll have to tell Niall about this later; he has a thing about laughing at weird rumors that pop up and likes to create some himself.

Niall’s band is awesome. Harry always knew that they would be good, but he is what some people call a music snob so when he hears something amazing, it’s—well. He’s impressed. Very impressed. The four of them spend the entire set jumping and waving their hands wildly, yelling out the wrong song lyrics and proposals. Niall actually stops playing for a moment; he’s laughing so hard that he’s snorting. He recovers quickly, though, and Harry thinks that he really will buy ten albums and get the band to sign all of them. He’ll sell at least half of them on EBay, and the rest will be kept for sentimental value.

When their set is done, Niall walks forward on stage with his microphone. “Thank you, everyone! Our album goes on sale January 26th, so pick up a copy, you bastards! Anyway—anyway. I just want to thank everyone for supporting us on this tour. I know we’re not the reason you came here tonight, or any of the other nights, but all the love we’ve received from everyone has been mind blowing. And I also want to thank four blokes who are here tonight.  I haven’t known them for very long, but they’re the fucking definition of craic. I love you guys, I love my band, and I love everyone here right now. Good night, everybody!”

The crowd cheers and they move off the stage. Harry loses interest now as everyone else in the venue becomes louder. He remembers Niall thanking Louis specifically for something, and he wonders why. Louis was the only one unsure about whether or not he could make it until the very last possible moment.  Harry pokes his side.

“Lou?”

Louis leans in closer to him to hear him better over the crowd. “What is it, H?”

“Why didn’t you almost come?”

“Huh?” Louis blinks. “Oh, that. It’s my birthday. I wasn’t sure if I would be going home or not.”

Harry freezes, the smile slipping off of his face. It’s Louis’ birthday and he had no idea until now. He wants to yank his hair out, to hit himself for being so stupid. Like, how can he be pining over the guy when he never even asked when his birthday was? Even Niall knew and he’s been gone for months. Zayn doesn’t really stress over those things so even if he knew, he probably forgot about it. Harry realizes he’s not breathing. He takes in a gulp of air.

“Are you okay?” Louis asks, crowding into Harry’s space until their foreheads are pressed together. His breath smells like strawberries and liquor. “You look like you’re freaking out.”

“I didn’t know,” Harry tries to back away, but Louis holds him firm against him. “Sorry. I’ve been with you all this time and I didn’t even—“

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Don’t feel bad. It’s my fault, I never told you.”

And that’s it. It’s like they’re on opposite sides of a canyon; they’re close enough so they can still see each other, but they can’t risk leaping to the other side. They can have sex and cuddle and have these moments together, but there’s something there that is blocking them from having anything more. No, not something. It’s Louis. They both know it.

“Do you love Liam?” Harry wants to take back the words the moment they’re out, because now they’re a thing that exist between them. But it’s too late, and he can’t stop looking at Louis’ face. His features soften at the question, like he’s been expecting this question. He probably has been. The only shocking part is how long it took.

Louis kisses Harry right as the lights dim and the main act appear on stage. The kiss isn’t anything to brag about. It’s not a declaration of love or an invitation for more. It’s just a kiss, which could mean hundreds of things or nothing at all. He pulls away as the music starts, deafening and frantic, and his eyes are doing the crinkling thing as he smiles. Liam and Zayn are lost in the crowd. It’s just the two of them. Louis hooks their pinkies together and turns to face the stage, the smile never falling from his lips.

He never answers the question. Harry’s not surprised.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm [robinsena](http://robinsena.tumblr.com/) on tumblr x


End file.
